


Town Secret

by Story_Teller_Joey



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: A - Freeform, Blood and Gore, Child Abuse, Cutting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Incest, M/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Rape, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 04:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Story_Teller_Joey/pseuds/Story_Teller_Joey
Summary: Abusive father, neglectful peers, the towns wrath for this boy Kurtis is simply unbelievable. But the most shocking bit is what his father is hiding at the lab in which hes works. What kind of twists and turns are ahead of this poor young man.





	Town Secret

The bus brakes screech to a halt by the bus stop, several students and I step out of the humid vessel. I take a few healthy fresh breaths, and start my short walk home. As my house came into view, I noticed my Dads old Ford pickup wasn’t in the drive way. “Must still be at work.” I mumbled. I dig through books and loose papers to find a ring of keys. After living here for so many years I still have trouble getting the right key in the keyhole. Shutting the door behind me I trudge to the dining room to start on my homework. Dumping all the papers on the table, I just sit there staring at the blue flier that read: “ALL 9TH GRADE STUDENTS MUST COMPLETE A SCIENCE PROJECT OF THEIR CHOICE BY THE END OF THE FALL, AND TURN IT IN AT THE REC CENTER IN AUSTIN COUNTY! Date due November 17, 1987” Science project. Science. I could always just walk to the library and check out a few books. But it’s Friday and they close at 5pm, it’s 6:15pm. Damn it, only one other place: Dad’s office. I usually go in there a little earlier than this but I really need to start on this project. Then again it is His office, a definite off limits to me. But if he ever found out that I was slacking even the slightest he’d whip me like a disobedient dog! Damned if I do and Damned if I don’t. I skip a few steps as I jog upstairs, I hang a right and face the big wooden door. I grip the brass handle and jiggle it a few times, it’s locked. “Great.” I feel around on top of the frame for the spare key and knock it down. The locks make a loud ‘click’ and then I’m in. Slipping the key into my hoodie pocket I step in the forbidden void. A few beams of afternoon sunlight peeked through the curtains lighting up the many wooden book shelves lined with many anatomy encyclopedias, Charles Darwin, a few on DNA, and a bunch of others too. One about the human bodies muscle build with a faded blue spine catches my eye. I Reach up and gently pull it out just scanning through the aged yellow pages for something interesting for a science project. Nearing the middle of the book with nothing interesting to speak of, I was about to put the book back in its place on the shelf when a Polaroid picture fell from the depth of the pages, hitting the floor with a soft ‘plop’. I set the book down on his desk and pick up the photo. It was my Dad in his bleached white work uniform smiling to the cameraman. He was standing beside a young red head who looked to be about in her late 20s early 30s. She was lying down in a hospital bed, taped up tubes patruding from her arm leading up to a couple of monitors. Her face was deprived of any color, just dark sunken eyes and cheeks. Her red locks were a tangled mess on top of her pale figure. The contrast between milky white and fiery red was oddly beautiful. The room they were in was well lit, casting ghostly shadows across both of their faces. It looked so eerie. Like a mad scientist and his victim from a fictional novel. I started to walk around the room, inspecting the image more closely. In the background I noticed a symbol of sorts. It was blurry but it looked like a black rat with a red circle over its left eye. I was hit with the strong sensation of da-ja-vu, I just couldn’t place where I’ve seen that symbol before. I was yanked from my daze when I bump into my Dad’s small liquor table and a bottle crashes to the floor. I got light headed as all the blood drains from my face. I’m fucking dead. I shove the picture into the pages of the book and place it back on the shelf. I slip on some of the liquid and I try to pick up some glass that was scattered across the floor. The roaring engine of the old Ford just made my body book it out of his office slamming the door behind me and I fly down the stairs and plop down at the dining room table. I wipe away the sweat on my brow and try to compose myself before he walks through that door. I go to wipe my hands on the front of my hoodie and I felt the hard meatal of his office key and the sickening realization that his door was still unlocked. And the broken evidence of others being in there scattered all over the floor. ‘Should I just leave the house while I still have a chance to escape? No. No, that’ll only make things worse.’ So much is running through my mind at once but it was all silenced when the click of the door being open rang out in my loud thoughts. I hunch over my paper and get a death grip on a pencil to make it seem like I was doing homework. “Hey, boy.” His rough, scratchy voice said. “Hey Dad, how was work?” I’m sweating so much I feel like I just ran a marathon in the Texas summer heat. “Like every day: worked hard, did some paper work, the usual.” I keep my head down and nod. I could smell that he didn’t come straight home from work but rather from the ‘Black Sheep Tavern’ in town. I’m not even surprised at this point, but I am rather impressed that he was able to drive home in his current condition. He walks, or more like sways over to the fridge and grabs a beer and downs it in a few gulps, then takes out another one and heads for the table. I try and keep my head down as he passes me by, the strong smell of alcohol makes my noes crinkle and eyes water. He drags a chair across the linoleum filling the silent air with noise. Scooting the chair close to mine he sits down and leans over to me taking a few sips of his beer. “What are you doing?” “Just getting some homework done for the weekend.” I scribble down some random notes, and glance at him. He nods his head tracing his blood shot eyes over the scattered papers on the dinner table. “A science project huh?” he puts his large hand on my back and pulls me even closer to him. “Uh-huh, its due in a couple of weeks.” Please don’t do this Dad. Please. “Mmhmm looks kind of, hard.” My mouth goes dry and I cut my eyes at him to see him still only staring blankly at the papers. “Not really, It should be an easy A.” He nods his head and gives my shoulder a light squeeze before getting up with his beer and heads out of the room. I let out a breath that I didn’t even realize that I was holding. The room felt almost seven degrees cooler now. I started looking through a few notes and writing things down when I heard the creaking of the wooden stairs. Fuck. I started sprinting upstairs with a damn good lie in my head. “Damn it Kurtis! What have I told you about going into my office?! KURTIS!!!” As soon as my foot hit the top step his large hand ceased my arm dragging me behind him. “Dad no please it wasn’t me I swear!” “What have I told you boy?! No one is allowed in my office EVER! So what is this?” He slings me on the hard mahogany floor of his office. The dim light of the setting sun casting rays on the bottle of aged whiskey broken in the corner. I’m dead, I’m fucking dead. “Dad really it wasn’t me, honest to God!” Fuck, FUCK just lie! “The the the wind must of blew it off the table! I don’t know but it wasn’t me!” The wind?! Jesus Christ! He kneels down to me loosening his tie and tenderly touches my cheek with the back of his hand. “So you talk to “God” now huh?” I’m shaking so much like a crack attic without his fix. He wipes away the hot tears flowing and leans in.” Has “God” ever answered any of your prayers at night? Has He ever helped you truly in a great time of need?” I try to get up and flee out the open door and the key flies out of my pocket hitting the floor. I slid on the sticky wetness and he grabs me by my hood and throws me on the hardwood floor again. If there really is a God please send me some kind of help. PLEASE! I see stars as my head made contact with the floor. My vision blurs and I see him swaying over to the remains of the brown bottle. Holding it up to the light there is still a few shots left in it. He sat on my groin and plugs my noes forcing me to breathe through my mouth and starts pouring it down on my face. I gasp as I accidently inhale some of the burning liquid and take a good bite on my tongue, making the burning worse. “Braking shit that’s not yours boy makes Daddy a very upset man.” The stinging of the whisky in my mouth was almost unbearable. Honestly I just wanted to die. I wanted to go limp and feel nothing at all. He finally gets up and goes over to open a fresh bottle to himself. I run out to the hall bathroom throwing the door closed and locking it, I forcing my hand down my through to puke up whatever kind of glass made its way down. I look in the mirror and my hair was a complete mess, my eyes puffy and red, face lightly frosted with blood. I lean into my reflection. “Why of all people. Why is this happening to me?” My father throws heavy punches to the door. “Baby boy~ How stupid do you truly think I am?” I slid down the wall and hide in the corner. ‘I hate this so much.’ “You are truly one lucky boy to have such a caring and loving father like me! Other folks would of thrown you out on the streets! Whoring yourself to get money just to eat! No one will ever love you like I do!” His muffled remarks rang true in my empty mind. New hot tears run down my face and I lay down with a towel as a makeshift blanket. I close my eyes and try to take a small nap. Just another day in paradise.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I should continue with this story or not.


End file.
